Fallen Angel
by Lord Spectre
Summary: A young angel is banished to the earth to live life as a mortal as a punishment for a horrible crime he committed in Heaven. He learns, through many hardships on earth, what it means to truly be an angel. Please R&R. CHAPTER 4 IS UP!
1. Prologue

**Fallen Angel**

**A tale of virtues, love, and sacrifice.**

**By Lord Spectre**

**Prologue**

_"My lord, perhaps this punishment is too harsh. I suggest that you give him another chance. He is still young, after all." _

"_No, Gabriel, we cannot forgive him for what he has done. He no longer deserves the title angel. Banish him to the earth; he shall live as a mortal for the rest of his life. May he never set foot in the sky again."_

_"At once, my lord."_

**May 12, 1993**

"Robert, slow down! You're going to get us killed driving this fast in the rain!"

"Darling, can't you see we're running late for the appointment? Dr. Keith has too many patients to wait long for us to arrive."

Raindrop after raindrop pounded the long deserted road Robert was driving down. This weather was uncommon in the British countryside. Robert's wife, Kari, warned Robert that terrible things may happen if he was not more cautious.

"We're almost there...DAMN!" A tremendous bolt of lightning struck the ground before the speeding car, popped its front tires and melted the front bumper. Robert, his heart pounding with fear, hit the emergency breaks and skid the car across the slick asphalt. The car slammed into and came to rest at the wall of a deserted barn.

"What the devil was that? My car is ruined!" Robert ejaculated angrily. "How in the blazes are we going to get to Dr. Keith's now!"

"Robert..." replied Kari in a trembling voice. "Forget about the appointment...look where the lightning struck...this is a tantamount of God himself!"

Robert reluctantly turned his head in the direction of the lightning strike. Before him lay an amazing sight.

A boy, no older than the age of 7, stood before him. His hair was a sheen of the most brilliant white; his skin, fair and tanned. If he had any clothes before, the lightning had stripped them off. A gash ran along his left cheek, caused by the near collision from Robert's car.

"What...who are you?" Robert squeaked, unaware of the fact there was no way the boy could hear him. The boy gave him a deep and longing stare...a stare of despair, need, and pleading, and collapsed in a heap on the singed gravel.

"Kari, is your cellphone working? Call the authorities. They have some serious investigating to do."


	2. Awakening

**Chapter One: Awakening**

_Who am I? Where am I? Where am I from? I have been asked so many questions...and there are no answers that I can give. _

_They found me on a deserted road. They say I had appeared out of thin air after a lightning strike. But they couldn't answer my questions. I have no identity._

_The so called "investigations" continued. The police continue to try to find my "parents." I doubt that they will ever succeed. There are no people with naturally white hair in this world. My "DNA" does not match any known person's. I am alone in this place; all alone._

_There are men, dressed in black suits. They carry these strange looking instruments called "guns" that can supposedly kill from a distance. The fact that I knew none of these things only vexed the men and alienated me even further from them._

_Why am I being kept here? I haven't done anything wrong, have I? The authorities say I am here because I have no where else to go, and I look different from the others. How do I look different from the others? I don't understand...I don't understand anything. _

_The man they call "Superintendent" thinks I am mentally ill and dangerous. He is keeping me locked in here so that I won't escape and harm the people outside. I wish I could tell him myself that I mean no harm to anyone or anything. But by the looks of it, he probably won't listen to a word I say. He is too stuck up and arrogant._

_The authorities gave up searching for my "parents" and "family" in no time. After all, who could help a boy who doesn't even know his own identity. They threw me in a dark cold cell, constantly guarded by the armed men in suits. There was no escape; I was not allowed out. I am destined to stay here forever.  
_

Officer Ian Balza had been in his superior's office several times before, but today it seemed strangely cold and bleak. Ian struggled to answer the questions with the little evidence he had at hand.

"Are you sure this boy just appeared out of nowhere?"

"Apparently so, Sir. According to Robert and Kari Keyes, the boy materialized out of thin air after a lightning strike that totaled their car and nearly killed them."

Superintendent Archibald Thompson gave a sigh of defeat. He had no intention of locking this boy up in a cell guarded by armed men. But this boy had no identity, had appeared out of thin air, and seemed almost...alien. Even the guards that Thompson had hand-picked to guard the child were given the heebie-jeebies by the child's cold, desperate stare. The Superintendent was against it...but he felt as if he had no choice in this matter.

"Very well, Officer. Keep him under guard constantly. Who knows what he could do to Great Britain if he manages to escape. It seems wrong to keep a seemingly innocent person in a jail cell, but we don't know if this is a innocent person. I am taking no chances. This is my decision."

"Yes, Sir. The captive is currently being guarded by the best men the Armed Forces could garner up. I myself will check on him ever few hours. Is there any other information I should be aware of?"

"No, officer. You are dismissed."

"Yes, Sir." The Superintendent watched him leave the office. Officer Ian Balza. He had personally picked him to be in charge of the guards that were assigned to watch the boy. Ian was strong, brave, and intelligent. He had a near perfect career record. Nothing could possibly go wrong in his hands...

"Sometimes...I hate this job." Thompson mutters idly to himself.

_Here he comes. The one they call "Chief" or sometimes, "Ian". He seems to have authority over all the people who guard me. Out of all the men I have met, I fear him the most, even though I've never talked to him before. He looks so...intimidating._

Officer Ian Balza entered the dimly lit cell. The boy instantly scampered off into the nearest corner.

"Stay...away...from...me!" the boy hoarsely whispered. From a glance, he was malnourished, bruised, and battered. Ian instantly felt sorry for the poor child cowering before him.

"Come now, there is no need to be afraid." he said in a gruff but gentle voice. "Would you like something to eat?"

The boy stopped squirming in the corner of the cell. He looked up into Ian's eyes. Instead of a bone-chilling desperate stare, it was a stare of warmth and...thanks, even? Ian smiled; maybe the boy wasn't so bad after all.

_I never thought these men could have any amount of kindness in them. It's funny that the one I feared most was the kindest to me. I will make sure to not judge people by their appearances from now on._

_The Superintendent is the one who I fear most now. He seems to have authority over even Ian. He listens to no one, only himself. Who knows what devious plans could be going on in that head of his?_

_Ian will protect me from this harsh world. Ian will be there. He will always be there. _


	3. Friendship

**Chapter Two: Friendship**

_Ian has taught me many things. He taught me about Mother Nature: the clouds, the wind, the earth, and most important of all, the great blazing Sun above us. Without it, he said, life could not exist on earth. _

_Ian taught me everything he knew about the modern technology of this world. Computers, phones, airplanes...more than I ever imagine existed. _

_What is the meaning of this bond? What is the meaning of what the men call "friendship?" _

Ian walked slowly out of the jail cell, and took care to lock the door behind him. It had been a long day. Ian continued to interrogate the boy, but he still had no clue to who he was or where he was from. It was clear the interrogations weren't going to get anywhere, so Ian decided to make the best out of the situation: he taught the clueless child everything he needed to know about the world.

"Hey, chief. What were you doing in there the whole time?" a guard called out to him.

"Trying, once again, to get some idea of the guy's identity. But he is as clueless as a stray dog...no idea who he is...no idea where he is from."

"Chief, why don't you just give up on him! Your job is to guard the cell, not go in a have some chit-chat with him!"

Ian did not respond. The guards were obviously beginning to think that he was growing soft for the boy.

"Well, perhaps I am." he thought, "I don't understand why everyone dislikes him so much..."

Ian looked forward to plopping down in his big fluffy recliner with a coke and a bag of chips. Guarding the boy was hard work. He constantly needed attention, for he always seemed lonely. Ian had to be there to watch over the guards; without proper supervision, the guards would cruelly abused and poked fun at the poor boy.

"This is strange...all the other guards hate the boy. Why am I the only one who can find something good in him? I have taught him the basics of everything in this world...why the earth spins around the Sun...why there are stars in the sky at night...I have taught him about family, about emotions. And he seemingly understands everything I say. But yet, everyone alienates him." Ian thought.

"But let's save the analyzing for another day...it's been a long day, and I, too, need my sleep. I wonder how he is doing right now..."

_Ian is different from the other guards. Most of the guards threw trash into my cell to annoy me, and they insulted me with the most horrid curses...I'd rather not elaborate on their foul language. Ian, however, treated me kindly. Like I noted earlier, he taught me everything about his world. When I am at the utmost peak of frustration, sadness, and loneliness, Ian is the one that helped me out. _

_Is this what "friendship" is all about? Is friendship about helping others, and being there when others need it? I have believed it is...and I am glad that something like friendship existed in this world. _

**Prime Minister's Office**

Superintendent Thompson knocked on the door to the Prime Minister's office. The Prime Minister had personally demanded a private meeting with him. Thompson did not know the reason for the private meeting, but it could not be any good.

"Who is it?"

"It's Thompson, Sir."

"Superintendent Thompson...we have not met in a long time. How has it been, old friend? Please, come in."

The Superintendent slowly opened the door, and walked in with as much composure as he could muster.

"Everything is going well, Prime Minister."

"Hmm...really? What about that boy, hmm?"

Superintendent Thompson cursed under his breathe.

"But...Prime Minister! I thought that information was being kept a secret!"

"Of course, Superintendent. But MI6 did not keep this information from me. Are you saying that this information is so secretive that not even the leader of your country can know what it is about?"

"No...of course not, Sir. But...something like this has never happened before. If word gets out to the public, all the citizens of Great Britain will question us. If we cannot give them an explanation of what is going on, they will begin to doubt our authority!"

"Your argument is valid, Superintendent. Why don't you start by telling me **everything**."

Thompson cursed once again, but he did not have a hope of shaking off the Prime Minister now. He might as well just explain everything that had been going on; hopefully, the Prime Minister will accept it.

"Very well, Sir. This boy is of unknown identity. According to witnesses, he appeared out of thin air during a thunderstorm in the countryside. Even after a large number of investigations, no clue to the boy's identity has been found."

"This is not possible, Superintendent. Surely no one can appear out of thin air just like that!"

"This boy did, Sir. And even, worse, he may be dangerous. It is clear that this boy is mentally ill...possibly even insane. The guards report that he speaks nothing but gibberish all day long, and refuses food from them."

"Superintendent...I'm afraid that there you are wrong. Check the documented files of Officer Ian Balza, Service No. 8923892."

Thompson turned on his laptop, and immediately accessed Officer Balza's files on this matter:

** file begin **"Despite what everyone might think, my experiences with this boy has been rather pleasant. I have been teaching him about our planet and everything around us. He seems to understand. The guards say that he speaks only "gibberish", but I find him highly linguistic. We have had many good conversations.

Superintendent, this child is intelligent and not dangerous at all. He is being mistreated! All the guards are harsh and cruel to him, and he does not get enough food at all. I guarantee you, Superintendent, if the boy is treated humanely, his behavior will change for the better." ** file end **

Thompson could not believe what was being said by the Officer. Was he out of this mind? This animal was insane, and perhaps dangerous!

"Prime Minister, I'm afraid he is mistaken..."

"Mistaken? I say that **you're** mistaken until you can prove that he is mentally ill and dangerous. Until you can prove that he is, I demand that he is treated in a more humane way than he is now."

"Yes...at once Sir." replied Thompson shakily.


	4. A Great Power

**Chapter 3: A Great Power**

_How long have I been here in my little cell? Weeks? Months? A year even? I have lost track of time. Every day goes by the same. I awake, and get my daily rations...a loaf of stale bread and some overly salty meat. I spend the rest of the day sitting in my jail cell, enduring the foul insults of the guards. Escape doesn't seem like an option. The only window is too high up for me to reach, and it is barred and locked tightly. Even if I did climb out of that window, I would fall to my death. The armed guards patrolling my cell don't make matters any better. How I wish I could see the outside world..._

The Prime Minister of Great Britain stared outside the window into the rising sun.

"Am I doing what I can to protect my country by keeping this boy locked up? Or am I just damning the young child to eternal imprisonment?"

Little did he know a miracle was soon to occur.

**July 9, 1993**

_Today I found a most marvelous creature in my cell. It flew threw the small cell window and fell in a heap on the damp floor. It seems...hurt and one of its "arms" seem to be bent at an odd angle. I will ask Ian what this creature is and why one of its arms is like that._

Ian slowly opened the door to the jail cell, and entered quietly. The captive was usually still asleep at this time.

"Good Morning, Ian. How are you today?"

Ian jumped in surprise. The child was up early today! He turned toward the corner where the child usually slept.

"Good Morning to you, too! I feel fine today. Have you slept well?" replied Ian.

"Yes, thank you. Will you please tell me what the creature in my hand is?" inquired the boy, "It seems hurt."

Ian took a closer look at the squirming object, and instantly new what it was.

"Why, it's a bird! And...oh dear. Its wing has been broken." Ian looked closer at the limp creature. "My, my...it is dying."

The mysterious boy gave Ian a curious, wide-eyed look.

"Dying? What is that?"

"Death is when your life ends, young one."

"Life ends? I thought life goes on forever and ever. A great thing like life surely can't end so soon?"

Ian was shocked by the child's ignorance, but continued to patiently explain.

"No, child. Everyone's life must end eventually. No one lives forever; it is not right."

"But why must this bird die? It hasn't done anything wrong."

"It got itself mortally wounded...that is why it is dying."

"No...I will not allow it. Death is too terrible a prospect for this bird!"

"There is nothing you can do, son..."  
Throughout the conversation, Ian noticed the boy's hands were beginning to glow a strange shade of blue...was he hallucinating? Or was something magical happening here.

"I will not allow this bird to die...it does not deserve it." said the boy through gritted teeth, "Everyone and everything deserves to live!"

The whole cell was wreathed with a bright blue tinge now, and Ian was convinced it was no hallucination he was experiencing. Before his eyes, the boy held the bird gently in his palm. With his free hand, he pressed down gently on the bird's snapped wing.

A split second later, the bird gave a shrill cry and flew out the window.

_What...is this power. It seems...familiar. Yet I do not know where I received such a gift. Healing is natural to me...but I do not know where I learned it. Will it help me in this world? Or will it lead me to my doom?_

When the rather stunned boy looked up a few moments later, Ian was gone.

Shoving aside a janitor busy at work, Ian stampeded toward Superintendent Thompson's office. Without even bothering to knock, he blew the door open, giving the Superintendent quite a scare.

"Good heavens, what was that for?" cursed the shaken Superintendent.

"Sir, we have a rather urgent situation here!" puffed Ian.

"What is it, Officer? Did the child get out of his cell? Is he on the loose?" replied the Superintendent nervously.

"Not at all, Sir. The child is still safe in his cell. This is a different kind of situation. It is easier to understand when you see it in person. Come with me, Sir."

The Superintendent followed suspiciously, wondering what could have happened.

**Back In the Jail Cell**

"So...boy. Is what Ian is telling me true the last word?" asked the Superintendent in a menacing voice.

"Yes, Sir. It is true."

"I don't believe it."

"Then let me prove it to you, Sir. Ian...do you happen to have any sharp items with you?"

Ian checked his pockets, and found his fine Swiss pocketknife buried somewhere in there.

"Don't hurt yourself too badly, alright son?" He reluctantly tossed the pocketknife to the young boy. Without blinking, the boy made a deep gash on his right arm.

"What the hell is he doing?" muttered Superintendent Thompson. Ian winced as blood poured out of the boy's wound. A subtle, blue glow wreathed itself around the jail cell.

"This is my proof...Superintendent." The boy's eyes locked onto Thompson's. He placed a glowing hand on deep gash. A second later, the wound was gone. Not a drop of blood was left.

"Good...lord..." gasped the Superintendent. Without further ado, he stumbled and groped his way out of the cell, clutching his chest. Ian gave the boy an apologetic look, and shut the door behind him.

**An hour later, in the Prime Minister's office...**

Superintendent Thompson tried to find the right words for his explanation of the boy's extraordinary power. The Prime Minister listened intently, and before long, Thompson had completed his explanation.

"This boy...the one the Keyes found. He has...the ability to heal any injury in a split second?" asked the Prime Minister incredulously.

"We don't know, Sir. The wounds that the child had healed were rather minor. I have come to ask for your permission to proceed with some further testing on some more serious injuries. We will also perform tests on various diseases and ailments." replied Thompson smugly.

The Prime Minister rubbed his eyes, and gave a great, heaving sigh.

"I give you permission to proceed with these tests. But if I find out that these tests are in any way abusive, I shall call them off. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir. Crystal clear."

"Very well then. Take the child to a more comfortable cell tomorrow, and arrange a meeting with him for me. Afterwards, you are free to test him at your convenience."

"Yes, sir. Thank you."


	5. Naming

**Chapter 4: Naming**

_It has been a restless night. I try to sleep in this damp cell, but it is almost impossible. I must try to make best out of my situation..._

_One of the guards opened the cell. I wonder what he is up too...it can't be good._

"Get a move on, kid! You're getting transferred to another cell. Order of the Prime Minister." grumbled the guard, "You better hurry and get moving before he changes his mind."

"T-thank y-you...s-sir."

"You can talk!" the guard balked at the bedraggled boy before him. "Well...I'll be darned. You aren't as stupid as you look. Don't thank me, youngling, thank the Prime Minister. He's the one getting you transferred; I would rather have you stay here."

"But where are we going?"

"To your new cell. It'll be much more comfortable than your old one, believe me."

_I had never thought this miracle could have happened to me. Guards giving me some degree of respect...transferring to a better cell. I would very much like to visit this "Prime Minister". He must be someone of very high rank...someone who looks out for everyone._

Ian Balza and Superintendent Thompson waited outside the new cell for the boy and his escort to arrive. The Prime Minister had ordered that the boy be brought to a new, more comfortable cell. He had also ordered a private meeting between himself and the boy.

"I wish they would hurry!" Thompson muttered impatiently. "The Prime Minister is not someone who should be kept waiting!"

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind, Sir." replied Ian. "It isn't an urgent meeting, after all."

At the same moment, the boy and his escort appeared from behind the corner.

"Reporting as ordered, Officer." He snapped a crisp salute to Ian and the Superintendent.

"At ease. Show the child his new cell."

The guard unlocked the door.

"Go on in! Check it out. I'm sure you'll like it. You're going to be in there for a long time, so you might as well make yourself comfortable."

_The new cell…it is…beautiful. The floors are covered with a thick, soft carpet. Various paintings depicting angels hang on the walls. Wait….angels? I have no idea what those winged creatures are…but yet I no what they are called. Angels. Hmm…_

_I will ponder this no further. My attention was immediately drawn to a large window to the right side of me. Almost the entire wall was covered by this window. I had a great view of the city from here._

_Several pieces of furniture were placed in different spots around the cell. I would never have to sleep on the hard floor again. I am very pleased with my new cell._

The guard watched the boy with amusement.

"You like your new room, don't you?"

"Of course, Sir. Thank you."

"Thank the Prime Minister. In fact, you will be doing just that in a few moments. Come with me."

The boy somewhat reluctantly walked out of the cell. The guard locked the door behind him. Superintendent Thompson chose this moment to tell the boy about the private meeting with the Prime Minister.

"As the guard has said, you will be meeting with the Prime Minister in a few moments. He will question you, and you will respond with the utmost respect." declared Thompson.

"Is the Prime Minister the leader of Great Britain?"

"Yes, he is. That is why you should treat him with the utmost respect." Thompson was rather surprised the dumb-looking boy knew that bit of information.

"But that's enough of the talk. We must leave now. The Prime Minister does not like to be kept waiting."

**July 14, 1993…Prime Minister's Office**

_I have always wanted to meet this "Prime Minister". After all, it was he who got me into better living quarters. I will remember to thank him for that._

_Ian has dressed me in an uncomfortable uniform he calls a "tuxedo". It is driving me absolutely crazy! I can't imagine how the Superintendent wears one all the time without complaining. It is so scratchy and stuffy in here. Ian tells me I'll get used to it._

_I also saw a "car" for the first time. It was just how I imagined it. Sleek, black, and comfortable leather seats on the inside. It moved at an extreme speed...I wonder how it does it so easily._

_We have reached the Parliament building, the capitol of Great Britain. The Prime Minister is supposedly waiting for me inside._

The awestruck boy gawked at the humongous Parliament building. He had obviously not seen something of this size and beauty before.

"There are a few rules to remember before you enter the building." Ian whispered to him. "One, remember to stay quiet. Two, do not touch anything, especially not the statues. Three, try not to wander off. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ian." replied the boy, still goggling at the building.

"Come now, we must hurry inside." piped the Superintendent.

They walked up the stairs, through the huge double-door entrance, and into the great halls within.

_I thought the outside of the Parliament had been beautiful enough; I was completely stunned by the interior. Beautiful statues and paintings decorated the walls; the velvety carpet made me feel as if I was walking on a cloud. Oh, how I wish I could stay here forever! But there is an urgent meeting with the Prime Minister to attend to, and there is no time to lose._

"We have arrived at the Prime Minister's office." stated the Superintendent. He gestured to a door at the end of the hall. "You must proceed alone; the meeting is supposed to be private. Remember to knock before you enter. And most importantly of all; don't you dare mess around in there!" hissed the Superintendent.

The child slowly walked toward the door, and tapped lightly on the hard ebony wood.

The door slowly creaked open, and before the boy stood a tall, wizened old man. His many years had given him an air of confidence and wisdom like no one the boy had ever met before.

"I have come as you ordered, Sir." the young child bowed reverently.

"There is no need for such formalities." the Minister smiled. "Please, do come in! Sit down, make yourself comfortable." He closed the door after him.

_The Prime Minister is a wonderful man. I do not have the words to describe him. His office is rather small and modestly decorated for a individual of his rank and power. I wonder what he will ask me today._

The Prime Minister seated himself at his desk, taking a long drink from his cup of coffee. He then began questioning the young boy.

"Well, son. It has been very kind of you for you to come visit me today. How are you feeling?"

"I am fine, Sir. The quarters you provided for me are just perfect. Thank you!"

"Oh, that was nothing. But there are more serious matters to discuss." the Prime Minister's tone darkened.

"The police tell me that you have no identity, but you do have a great power: the power to heal. Is this true?"

"Yes, Minister. Would you like me to prove it to you?"

The Prime Minister made a "no" gesture with his hand. "No, no. That is not necessary. I don't want you hurting then healing yourself again. That is too drastic!"

"As you wish, Sir."

The Prime Minister sighed. "All I have ever wanted was the best for my people. A leader does not rule his people, son. He serves them, and leads them in their time of need. Great Britain's mortality rates caused by illness and injury have never been so high. There was nothing I could do about this...until you arrived."

"Sir...what are you asking of me?"

The Prime Minister did not answer. Instead he gestured to a painting on the wall. "Do you see that, son?"

The boy turned his head toward the painting. It was a picture of an angel, winged and in his full glory. The angel had one glowing hand placed over a sick man's forehead. In his other hand, he carried what looked like an medicinal herb.

"That is the Archangel Raphael, my boy. He was the greatest healing angel to have ever lived. No disease or injury could best him. He healed everyone who needed it..."

The boy stared at the picture. The Archangel looked so...familiar. Had he seen him somewhere before?

"You are very much like him, son. You have the power to heal." continued the Prime Minister. "As for what I ask of you...I ask of you to heal my people. I want you to end their pains caused by illness and injury. Can you handle this task?"

_The Prime Minister has given me a great and difficult task. If I agree to help him, I will have to bear my power with great responsibility...will I be able to bear it?_

The boy pondered for a few more moments, and finally spoke.

"Prime Minister...I agree to help your people. Is there anything else you would like me to do?"

The Minister gave a heavy sigh of relief. His prayers had been answered.

"No, my child. That is all I ask of you. But I must ask you one last question. Child...do you have a name?"

"A name? No...Sir. I do not have a name. People just call me "boy" when they want to get my attention."

"Then come here, child." the boy obliged. "Kneel." With a doubtful look on his face, the boy fell on one knee.

"I, Johannes Erickson, Prime Minister of Great Britain, christen you Raphael, Healer from the Stars. May your spirit bless the people of this world. God bless you."

Raphael rose from the floor, and looked one last time at the painting.

"I have a job to do...just like you, Archangel." he thought.


End file.
